


Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

by Aerine



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Spoilers, anyway I love angst, is this even accurate like lmao, just typed this up idk what I was thinking, no one else is mentioned besides those three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerine/pseuds/Aerine
Summary: Kokichi Ouma devised a plan... only you were wound up in it instead of Kaito.





	Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on my tumblr and my imagines blog (dangan-ronpa-imagines) but chose to expand my horizons and create more exposure for my writing! I thought of this while daydreaming, and really wanted to capture how someone could feel knowing their future seemed so bleak... so I stayed up writing this!

The moment Kokichi Ouma shed himself of his uniform, baring himself vulnerable to your shivering body, the reality of it all crashed down on you and left you no room to breathe. You clawed hopelessly at your throat, attempting to find composure, yet it was far from your reach; after all, who could when you were a prisoner of a school, the _Academy of Gifted Juveniles_ to be exact, forced to kill your fellow students as if the notion of feeling alive never mattered to you? If some poor soul was terrified enough to choose you as their next victim, you would wholeheartedly invite death… like this, you would find solace in the abrupt ending to your rather short story.

_Not like this. Not like this. Not him._

“C’mon! Can’t have you backing out now,” he grunted out, a wry grin on his lips, “I don’t have much time left, y’know.”

Somehow you could imagine a future where some of his truths are lies, and some of his lies are as sincere as the smile that remained stretching Kaede’s cheeks. He would continue his playful demeanor as if despair hadn’t overtaken him, as if he knew his existence—his miniscule, irritating existence—mattered in this pathetic world. This game never tore his heart out and spit on it, or teased him with the glimpse of the closest thing to a family he had to near death. The factors of his life were his to tamper with, no outside force willing enough to snatch it from his bare, pleading hands. You were somehow in the equation, gleefully waiting for your prankster to end the night and, no matter what, you would continue to be the light that kept the lies that threatened to consume him at bay.

_Who knew it would come to this?_ Doubt once crossed your features at Kaede Akamatsu’s motivating words, her hands tightened into fists, your own unable to match her resolve. She made sure to find the gazes of her fellow students, finding the fear in their wide eyes, realizing that all they learned in life _—_ _never take a fellow life away, they breathe the same air as you do and therefore deserve to live the same life as you blissfully live, except no one ever explained to them why the action was abhorrent_ —was about as efficient as attempting to take their lives back by force. Back then, the number of trembling bodies beside you were sixteen… and somehow the lot of you were down to seven.

Your gaze couldn’t help but linger on the epitome of a liar, his complexion growing pale as you prolonged the inevitable. This is what Kaede’s attempt led to… this is the outcome that Kaede’s words swore wouldn’t happen. To ensure this never happened, Kaede Akamatsu devised a near foolproof plan involving a shot-put ball and intentional piles of books to kill the mastermind of this killing game and escape as a team, as friends. You felt yourself growing light-headed in response, and you pleaded with yourself to forget about it all. However, who could forget the wrongful victim, or her body hanging over your head as her last breath left her as a cold, sorrowful whisper? Why not remember the teamwork your fellow students swore to put in, only for this monochromatic bear to destroy the idea of togetherness, to obliterate their morals as if the world didn’t exist outside of the academy?

Oh, but for no longer. “Will you snap out of it already?” The boy swiped your jacket from your quivering hands, relishing momentarily the last pleasant scent that would reach his nostrils. He neared the murder weapon, the crack in between inviting its next victim. The hydraulic press was an inanimate object, but you held more resentment for it than you ever could for another; two lives would most definitely end as a result of it, after all. The grin left him, sweat pouring down his forehead as he grew hot with the poison coursing throughout his body. He could feel his body growing weary of functioning, and he took that first step inside before a hiccup echoed through the silence.

You were crying. Your hands, painted with splotches of your own blood, were slapped over your mouth as sobs left you unable to breathe. The tears ran down your cheeks, salt water seeping into your lips, as years and years of sorrow came to a head. Your face was wet with your strife, knees buckling as you fell to the floor, wishing for this moment to be your last. The boy was pretending to be strong, yet the more it occurred to you that you were losing everyone dear to you without so much of a way to stop it left you numb… polarized. Who knew someone out there forced you into this life, making you watch simply as the world crashed down with you not in it?

How cruel could those students be, to not _fucking murder_ you when they had the chance?

“Sucks it had to happen this way, right?” Kokichi commented, his tone sour. “… You know, I really hated you.”

His biting words were an attempt to get a rise out of you; since he knew of your intelligence, he thought it obvious what he was implying of, yet a look over his shoulder absolved him of his second of humor. You, losing it all, held upon the fact that you were somehow still yourself despite how many times Monokuma attempted to fix that. Tears were a sign of weakness, so the most gruesome of deaths instead left you wondering of the future, no tears to shed for the lost lives of your friends. Perhaps this time is what finally broke your resolve, your desire to remain the person you were beforehand… someone with a family, maybe a pet or two. Someone who stepped on the bus at the crack of dawn for school, stopping for a coffee to last you for the day.

You loved him, too, but it wouldn’t matter. Not anymore.

Kokichi frowned, every ounce of his willpower finding the courage to end it all for people who never knew him… perhaps for the better. “You better live. I won’t let you die ‘cause of this stupid game!”

… Over whose dead body?

He wedged himself in between the flat ends of the press, your jacket sleeve peeking slightly from the edge. You stepped up those stairs into oblivion, positioning yourself behind a camera Kokichi stole from the library, hand hovering over the red button that would send you straight to hell. A world without this humorous, mysterious boy would have been quite horrifying, but a world with you in it? It should have shocked everyone to their core. After this, the life you lived was undeserved. The expectations placed on you since birth were all for naught because you took the life of an arguably innocent teenager. The person that pondered of their distant future exists no longer… only one that will forever dream of forgiveness.

… And with that, the camera started rolling.


End file.
